Three Women
Created | Updated Jun 27, 2005
Three Woman
They had a quiet life in their neat little house in the old part of town on the hill. The old mother, who was nintey-six now, the older daughter, Maria, at seventy-three, and the younger daughter, Hannah, in the wheelchair, at seventy, have lived alone together for many years. The father, a German immigrant, who had died more than thirty years before, had left them moderately well provided for and the three women hardly ever spoke of him any more.
Their brother Heinrich, although living in another town with his wife, was the man of the house. He was a big blond blue-eyed man with strong arms, a loud friendly voice and much laughter. He was a ship’s captain and whenever his voyages brought him to their part of the country, he visited the women for a few days. He always brought with him some precious strange-labeled, exotic tins of food.
Once, a long time ago, the mother and the girls had been beautiful. Many faded pictures in the house on the hill showed them happily laughing in their pretty dresses. Hannah had been especially pretty with her blond hair and blue eyes. At seventeen she had fallen ill with polio. The mother and Maria had to take care of her because all the illness had left her, was the use of her arms, her lively brain and her laughter. Her once pretty body got permanently fixed into a twisted and uncomfortable position and her lovely face looked at you from an angle. The one sister’s illness shaped the other sister’s life. Maria had had many suitors, but as her duties in the household started to keep her away from parties and other young people, the young men began to look elsewhere for their sweethearts and soon forgot her.
Now the big events in the three women’s lives were the visits of their brother Heinrich, the captain. He brought them stories about far-away-places, explained the news on televison to them and commented on what was happening in the world. Being half German, they were especially interested in what was going on in that never seen country. The mother hardly took part in the conversation and one could not know if she was listening. Sometimes, she was very lucid and remarked on a topic, recognized a visitor and talked to him. At other times she was completely oblivious of her surroundings. Between meals and slow walks to the bathroom, she sat in her chair and watched television. She never talked about what she saw and if she liked a program. She just sat there calmly looking at the screen. Sometimes, one or the other sister would switch to another channel and the mother did not seem to mind.
Hannah was able to do a lot in the house. She could wash dishes and cook meals and she moved easily about the house in her chair. She was the one who kept up conversations with the few visitors who came and she asked them questions about where they lived and worked and listened eagerly to the answers.
Maria was very silent, but she was the only one who could still move well on her legs and to her fell the task of cleaning the house and going out to shop and pay the bills.
Hannah worried about her sister because more and more often she seemed to be sinking into that faraway place of the soul from where there is no return.
Today was Hannah’s seventieth birthday and Heinrich had come to stay for a few days. He had just come back from Europe and had many stories to tell. He was retired now, but having traveled all his life,he found it difficult to settle down in one place for any length of time. A few years ago he had taken his mother and his two sisters to live with his family in the big city in the south. He had built a pleasant apartment on top of the garage and had hoped they would like it there. But the three women had not gotten along with their brother’s wife and had had many spats with her, especially when the brother was traveling and absent for many months.
As soon as he had returned that time, they had made him take them back to their little town on the hill, although that put a great distance between them. The move back returned to them their precarious independence and they did not feel a burden to anyone. The mother had the television programs in front of her all day long, Maria, the healthy sister, continued with her routinely tasks about the house and going out and Hannah could peacefully wheel herself about and do the cooking and washing up. She could think undisturbed and talk to some few old friends on the telephone. It was she, who had never lost interest in the world outside their home. It was she who most appreciated all the colorful nicknacks all over the house her brother had brought back for them over the years. It was she who had a story to tell about each souvenir from far away.
They had a quiet life in their neat little house in the old part of town on the hill. The old mother, who was nintey-six now, the older daughter, Maria, at seventy-three, and the younger daughter, Hannah, in the wheelchair, at seventy, have lived alone together for many years. The father, a German immigrant, who had died more than thirty years before, had left them moderately well provided for and the three women hardly ever spoke of him any more.
Their brother Heinrich, although living in another town with his wife, was the man of the house. He was a big blond blue-eyed man with strong arms, a loud friendly voice and much laughter. He was a ship’s captain and whenever his voyages brought him to their part of the country, he visited the women for a few days. He always brought with him some precious strange-labeled, exotic tins of food.
Once, a long time ago, the mother and the girls had been beautiful. Many faded pictures in the house on the hill showed them happily laughing in their pretty dresses. Hannah had been especially pretty with her blond hair and blue eyes. At seventeen she had fallen ill with polio. The mother and Maria had to take care of her because all the illness had left her, was the use of her arms, her lively brain and her laughter. Her once pretty body got permanently fixed into a twisted and uncomfortable position and her lovely face looked at you from an angle. The one sister’s illness shaped the other sister’s life. Maria had had many suitors, but as her duties in the household started to keep her away from parties and other young people, the young men began to look elsewhere for their sweethearts and soon forgot her.
Now the big events in the three women’s lives were the visits of their brother Heinrich, the captain. He brought them stories about far-away-places, explained the news on televison to them and commented on what was happening in the world. Being half German, they were especially interested in what was going on in that never seen country. The mother hardly took part in the conversation and one could not know if she was listening. Sometimes, she was very lucid and remarked on a topic, recognized a visitor and talked to him. At other times she was completely oblivious of her surroundings. Between meals and slow walks to the bathroom, she sat in her chair and watched television. She never talked about what she saw and if she liked a program. She just sat there calmly looking at the screen. Sometimes, one or the other sister would switch to another channel and the mother did not seem to mind.
Hannah was able to do a lot in the house. She could wash dishes and cook meals and she moved easily about the house in her chair. She was the one who kept up conversations with the few visitors who came and she asked them questions about where they lived and worked and listened eagerly to the answers.
Maria was very silent, but she was the only one who could still move well on her legs and to her fell the task of cleaning the house and going out to shop and pay the bills.
Hannah worried about her sister because more and more often she seemed to be sinking into that faraway place of the soul from where there is no return.
Today was Hannah’s seventieth birthday and Heinrich had come to stay for a few days. He had just come back from Europe and had many stories to tell. He was retired now, but having traveled all his life,he found it difficult to settle down in one place for any length of time. A few years ago he had taken his mother and his two sisters to live with his family in the big city in the south. He had built a pleasant apartment on top of the garage and had hoped they would like it there. But the three women had not gotten along with their brother’s wife and had had many spats with her, especially when the brother was traveling and absent for many months.
As soon as he had returned that time, they had made him take them back to their little town on the hill, although that put a great distance between them. The move back returned to them their precarious independence and they did not feel a burden to anyone. The mother had the television programs in front of her all day long, Maria, the healthy sister, continued with her routinely tasks about the house and going out and Hannah could peacefully wheel herself about and do the cooking and washing up. She could think undisturbed and talk to some few old friends on the telephone. It was she, who had never lost interest in the world outside their home. It was she who most appreciated all the colorful nicknacks all over the house her brother had brought back for them over the years. It was she who had a story to tell about each souvenir from far away.
